by G. F., 13
It is very foggy. It is hard to see. I wonder where I am.
The fog is getting thicker. This fog is creepy. I just see trees everywhere, no houses, just trees. It’s all I can see. This fog is mysterious. I wonder what is lurking inside it.
I see someone. I get closer and realize they have no face.
3 hours later
I wake up. I am in a log cabin somewhere, but still in the woods. I ask myself, “Where am I?” I walk around the cabin. There is a stove that has meat cooking on it. It smells good. I want to eat it but I think, “What if that weird man comes back?” I have to leave now.
I leave the cabin and it’s still foggy but it’s night now. I see a pair of lights that look like lights of a car. I go closer to the lights thinking that it might be help. I run toward the lights, but then the lights just turn off, and I hear a pair of footsteps coming my way. They come from all sides around me. They want to trap me.
I run but then I see it—the same head I saw last time. I hear creepy giggles. I run until I can’t run anymore. I think I get away.
The next morning
I wake up. It is day now, but still foggy. I am in the same cabin again! I look around to see if that man is here or not. I can’t see him anywhere. Why did he build this house if he isn’t going to use it? The meat is still on the stove cooking. I wonder why it’s still cooking—how did it not overcook? I hear someone outside yelling. I run outside to see who it is.
It’s a boy around my age. I tell him to come here, quick. He runs inside with me, back into the cabin. He is shaking in fear. I say to him, “What’s wrong?” He replies, but he speaks so quietly and stutters through his words. “I-I-I wa-s-s-s being-g-g-g chas-s-s-ed by som-e-e-e m-a-a-n.” I think it’s the man I saw when I was being chased, so I look out the window. He’s coming.
We both hide in the closet. We hear the front door open. I tell the boy to be quiet and stop breathing so heavily. We hear footsteps in the kitchen. But then they stop. We think we can make a run for it. But then the footsteps come close to the closet we’re in. The footsteps leave the room without finding us, but we hear creepy giggling. We are too afraid to leave the house now.
8 hours later
It’s nighttime. The fog is gone and we think it’s safe to make a run for it. The boy is a little sleepy. I tell him to get up and let’s go. We leave. The man is nowhere to be seen. We go outside and hear police sirens in the distance. A search squad! We follow the sirens, but suddenly we are stopped by the man. He comes out of nowhere!
We run in opposite directions to escape. We follow the lights from the cars. I see cops and I run toward them. I can’t see the boy anywhere. The cops take me in the car and we leave.
The boy is screaming. The cops try to find him, but come back with no results.
I fall asleep in the police car. I wonder what happened to the boy. What was that meat cooking? So many questions, but I’m not sure I really want to know the answers.
Red Bank, New Jersey
Bridge Ink 